So Comes Snow After Fire

11.v

The lights in the great work hall dimmed and went out, and Kíli took the opportunity to slip his arm around Tauriel's waist. He had been waiting all afternoon to try how her slim, corseted figure would fit into the crook of his arm. The answer, of course, was perfectly.

In the dark, he felt her relax and lean her hip slightly into him. Her hand moved lightly over his back, and then paused, as her attention—along with that of everyone present—was caught by Thorin's voice, low but clear, intoning in Khuzdul, the ancient and secret language of the dwarves.

After a few moments, Kíli nudged Tauriel's shoulder with his head, and when he was sure she had inclined her own, he whispered, "It's the story of how Durin and the patriarchs were created by Mahal, of how they founded the first seven kingdoms." He had heard this story repeated at every New Year's that he could remember since he was a boy, but he never tired of it. There was something mysterious and powerful in hearing how the great Durin, his own ancient forefather, had been formed at the hands of Mahal, and granted life by the Allfather, and then set to sleep for ages within the stone, awaiting his time to waken and begin the works of founding a people and building a kingdom.

This was his favorite part, now: when Durin framed his forge and kindled its first fire. Even as Thorin told the tale, he struck flint and steel, the sparks flying like lightning in the dark cavern. Then they blossomed softly amongst the tinder, illuminating Thorin's features in a dance of stark shadow and light.

Thorin held the flame aloft, and his tone became more sure and yet more reverent.

Kíli murmured, "It's a prayer, now, that Mahal bless our works as he blessed Durin's."

He felt her nod, and looking up, he found her watching his uncle with a wondering gaze. Was she merely curious, or did she hope, as he did, for their love to share in his benediction?

When Thorin finished, he turned, and strode towards the forge beyond. Then, kneeling, he placed the sacred flame among the prepared kindling. For a moment, the light seemed to wink out, and then with a rush like wind or a divine breath, the whole furnace was ablaze, filling the hall with sudden light that left Kíli blinking. Beside him, Tauriel let out a soft gasp of awe.

Kíli remembered his companions telling of how they had lit these same furnaces when they had driven Smaug from his lair, and he was glad to think they now relit the fires, not for vengeance, but for themselves and for hope.

The clan leaders, who had been standing on either side of Thorin throughout the ceremony now stepped forward: Balin, and Daín, and others Kíli knew from Thorin's council. In turn, they lit brands from the flames and then made their way from the hall, the watching dwarves parting to let them through.

"What are they doing now?" Tauriel asked softly, as more dwarves from the crowd stepped forward to light torches of their own.

"Everyone takes the sacred fire to light his own forge for the year," Kíli told her, as his brother stepped up to join the dwarves lining up before the furnace.

"You aren't going to join them?"

Kíli shrugged comfortably against her. "I will, once I've a forge and household of my own."

Thorin had returned from the forge and joined his nephew and sister. He settled an arm about Dís's shoulders, and she murmured something to Thorin that Kíli could not catch, but Thorin smiled.

Tauriel had gone a little tense—well, not so much tense as less relaxed—at Thorin's arrival, and Kíli removed his arm from her waist and caught her hand instead. He wasn't sure the true reason she was uncomfortable around his uncle, but he respected that she felt the need to be more formal before him.

When Fíli returned with a kindled torch, the rest of them fell into step behind him, as he made his way down the workmen's halls to their own smaller, private forge. And Kíli, who had never before particularly envied Fíli's role as the representative of their house, found himself unexpectedly impatient to have the same responsibility for himself.